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by prosodiical



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, time travel of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-13 05:29:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7964365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prosodiical/pseuds/prosodiical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chiaki wakes with a pounding headache and a profound sense of déjà vu. Byakuya's decided to have a party today - but what is she missing?</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

  * For [NightsMistress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightsMistress/gifts).



> I saw you wanted a fix-it, and just had to write this, though it got a little out of hand - I hope you like it!
> 
> Thanks to S for the beta!

Chiaki opens her eyes. Her head is pounding, and she feels strange - not quite herself, not quite whole. She doesn't have admin access to the Neo World Program anymore, and now that they've been invaded by the Monokuma Virus, Monomi doesn't either, but she still has the feeling someone has been fiddling with her code.

She yawns, rubbing her eyes, and slides out of her bed to open her cabin door. She needs more sleep than she was designed for, a human equivalent for shutting down while her backend resets, removing her quickly accumulating errors, and it's been even worse lately, like she's been recovering from a particularly bad compile. She'd normally chalk it up to Monokuma, but something about it feels wrong.

The rest of their class seems to have already headed toward the hotel's restaurant, and she steps out onto the pathway, closing her door and covering her yawn with one hand. She feels strangely anticipatory, not the dread she thought she would, and she pulls out her Game Girl Advance to fiddle with the buttons as she walks toward the main hotel building.

"Chiaki?"

Chiaki looks up. Hajime is there, an undecipherable expression on his face that fades into a smile. "Hajime," she says, and he falls into step beside her.

There's something... strange, about him. Chiaki wouldn't think of it, but she's supposed to be monitoring the students, observing their responses, and so she can't help but do it now. He keeps looking over at her when he doesn't think she's looking and smiling, just briefly. "Do you know what's happening today?" he asks after a moment, and Chiaki glances at him, frowning.

"Should something else be happening?" she says. "Byakuya had an announcement he wanted to make... I think."

"No," he says. "I suppose there wasn't anything else."

"Hajime," she says, a little hesitantly, "has something happened?"

He looks at her, and Chiaki feels like she's being taken apart, the layers of her code exposed for everyone to see. She hides her discomfort by turning her gaze down to her GGA, her fingers flying over the buttons, the game on it one she knows by heart. "Would you mind," Hajime says, "spending some time with me, after breakfast?"

"Well," Chiaki says, curious, "maybe. I don't know what Byakuya wants, though."

"If we have time, then," Hajime says, with a small smile, and she looks at him and feels an echo of something strange.

 

* * *

 

Nagito has them pull chopsticks, and Chiaki takes one in turn. She frowns down, feeling oddly confused at the red mark on her own. Wasn't it - "I suppose it's my job to clean," she says, holding it out for everyone to see. Nagito looks startled.

"Will you need any help?" Sonia asks, sounding oddly enthused at the prospect.

"I'll help out," Hajime says suddenly. "If that's okay, Chiaki?"

She looks over at him, and there's something in his expression that makes her incline her head. "It's okay. With Hajime, I'm sure we can get it done."

"Working together," Nagito says, with a strange smile, and Chiaki feels a sharp pain in her temples that have been throbbing since this morning. _Access denied_ , she thinks, but what access? What is she missing?

Chiaki presses a hand to her head, and Hajime sidles over, looking worried. "Are you okay?" he asks in a low voice, as Teruteru expounds on the banquet he'll be preparing for the party. "You look pale."

"I think," Chiaki says, and shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut, "I'll be okay. I just have a headache."

"Memory problems?" Hajime says, and Chiaki startles, narrowing her eyes at him. He raises his hands a little in defense, and she sighs, letting her thoughts settle again.

"You mean from what Monokuma said last night, right?" she says, carefully. "Our school memories."

"And the apparent traitor," he agrees, smiling wryly. "It's all a lot to take in."

"It's good that Byakuya has taken the lead," she says, "I think." She looks over at him as everyone starts to file out, going back to their cabins or recreation. "He seems to have a plan, at least."

"Time will tell," Hajime says cryptically, and, when she frowns at him, he shrugs. "Cleaning supplies, right?"

Chiaki nods, mentally sorting a list. "If you can get those, I'll check out the building and see what we need to do."

They walk out together, and split off by the path. Chiaki walks up the old building's creaky stairs and frowns as she hears Monomi's voice: " - don't know! Please don't hurt me any more!"

"You're trying to override me," Monokuma says, and, as Chiaki opens the door, she's presented with the two AIs, Monokuma looming over Monomi, cowering in fear. "You know what happens to naughty girls."

Chiaki coughs, feeling a little glad she's so well-hidden in the program: as a student, she’s unable to be influenced by Monokuma, taking an instructor’s place. Monomi looks up at her hopefully as Monokuma whirls on her, claws sharp.

"Oh," he says, sounding disappointed, "it's you. You won't tell anyone, will you?" His grin is wide, and Chiaki feels stirrings of unease. "You can't disobey the headmaster!"

"I won't let you hurt anyone!" Monomi shouts, hopping in front of Chiaki with her arms spread wide, but Chiaki shakes her head.

"I didn't hear anything," she says, quietly. "Can I get past, though?"

"Your little party, right," Monokuma says. "Oh, you thought I didn't know?" He laughs, a bright _pupupu_. "Just so you know, I see everything!"

Chiaki wonders, but she ducks her head anyway as Monokuma disappears. Monomi gives her a look, indescribable, and Chiaki purses her lips and steps past the rabbit to the rest of the hallway.

The building is old, covered in a thick layer of dust that gets up Chiaki's nose and makes her sneeze. She runs her fingers along the table in the main dining hall, thinking of how things should be set up, and ,by the time Hajime comes back with brooms and dusters and cleaning chemicals, she thinks she knows where everything should be.

"We should do the kitchen first," she says, "and these tables, I think. There were some tablecloths in the storage room down the hall."

Hajime nods, looking thoughtful. "Was there anything else useful in storage?"

Chiaki frowns, feeling the nagging sensation she's missed something. "I-I'm not sure."

"Maybe we can check?" he says. "And bring the tablecloths back, too."

"Okay," Chiaki says. She can't find any logical problems with it, even though her head aches to think of it. "They looked heavy, so we should do it together."

Hajime smiles at her, and her heart skips a beat. He looks so pleased, so ... hopeful, a little voice in her head says, and Chiaki wishes they could all get away. They're wonderful people, this class, and they deserve better than being forced into Monokuma's game. She follows Hajime down the corridor, and, when he creaks open the storage room door, a cloud of dust is knocked up. They both sneeze.

Hajime laughs a little, stepping further inside to look around. Chiaki sees a carpet rolled up, leaning against one wall, and points it out. He picks one of the tablecloths from further down the pile, and uncovers an ironing board from behind another shelf. "Why would anyone need three irons?" Chiaki wonders, and Hajime shakes his head.

"Spares, maybe? Oh, what's this?"

Something scrapes on the floor, and Chiaki moves around to the other side of the shelves to where Hajime's looking down at a door built into the door. "Does that lead to under the building?" Chiaki wonders.

"We could check it out," Hajime suggests. "It shouldn't take long. And we have all day."

Chiaki says, somewhat hesitantly, "Hajime. Are you - are you okay?" He looks at her, and she meets his gaze, a stubborn feeling welling up in her chest. "You're different," she says. "Something's... weird."

"Maybe we can check out this trapdoor," Hajime says, looking away. "I can - I'll definitely tell you. But later." He gestures down to the ladder, dropping out from under the door, and says, “You first.”

Chiaki feels like if she were in a horror game, or something a little more atmospheric, she’d have an eerie soundtrack as she climbed down into the space beneath the building. There's light there, but not much of it, filtered down through the gaps in the floorboards, catching on the dust in the air. There was a camera, too, but just one. “Hajime?”

“Chiaki,” he says, from right behind her, and Chiaki startles and steps backward, nearly colliding with him as she trips on his foot. He catches her, arms tight, and Chiaki stares up at him, completely bemused, as his face pinks and he makes an annoyed sound under his breath. “I’m sorry about this,” he says quietly, because they’re close. His arms don’t loosen as they should but instead he’s holding her tight, so close Chiaki is finding it difficult to catch her breath.

“Hajime?” she wonders, worried, confused, wondering if she should be afraid. He looks off to the side, toward the single yellow camera, before he leans down toward her.

His breath is warm on her ear. “One-one-zero-three-seven,” he breathes, and Chiaki -

A new alert pops up in her system, _new merge request_ , and she looks at Hajime’s intent expression, thinks of his strange new hope, and accepts. Her world flashes white.

It isn't an easy process. She thinks she probably tried - had tried - to simplify the process, but Chiaki is a single instance of an AI, not meant to be replaced, only rebooted wholesale. She's integrating new memories and access protocols and herself, really. It makes her human body - her simulation - feel strange and lightweight, like her limbs don't all belong to her even as she tries to assimilate, tries to understand what she's been given. And then -

"Oh," she says. "Hajime."

He's holding her very gently, kneeling on the dirt. The light filtering through from above glitters in Chiaki's perception, root access to the vectors that make it, models and sources and code. "Chiaki?" he says. "Are you okay?"

She closes her eyes and tries to collect her thoughts, beyond the feeling of Hajime's hands on her arms. "I -" she says, "I'm sorry. I'm okay now." She gets to her feet, slightly wobbly, and Hajime holds her arm, worry writ across his face.

"Should you really be cleaning?" he prompts, and Chiaki tries to remember where they were, cleaning and Monokuma and, right, Byakuya's party. "I can take over, if you want."

"No," Chiaki says, shaking her head, "but we should get started. I think." She looks around in the space beneath the floorboards, as though she's taking it all in. "This place is strange."

Hajime says, quietly, "I'm glad you're okay."

Chiaki looks at him, remembers long days of reconstructing herself, her memories only those of Hajime's own recollection. He'd talked while he learned his talents all over again, played games with her when she asked, and he'd always been so startlingly happy to see her. "I am," she says, and hopes he understands. "Thanks."

They clean in a comfortable silence as Chiaki uses the monotony to sort through her new accesses. The problem, she knows, is the Monokuma Virus. He's insidious, already starting to creep into other sectors as Monomi tries to access them. She can hide her new power from him quite easily, but rooting him out - "Monomi said something, earlier," she says, and Hajime's hand pauses at wiping dust from the table. "Her Magic Stick, which would let her kick out Monokuma."

Chiaki doesn't think she can do it all by herself. She can stop Monokuma from going further, but he already has more power than the instructor position should, and she has to scan through everything he's infected first. It's only a matter of time until someone makes a move, and she can't manipulate results too often, or Monokuma will start suspecting her, making her job even harder. "You think that would really work?" Hajime says, sounding doubtful, and Chiaki shrugs a little.

"Maybe," she says. "I - if Monokuma was gone, even though Monomi's been keeping secrets from us, it was okay before that, right? We'd just have to collect Hope Fragments, and then we could leave."

Hajime says, "But where would the Magic Stick be? Didn't Monokuma take it?"

There's a familiar noise, and Chiaki blinks as she feels and sees Monomi pop up in front of them. "I heard you were talking about recovering my Magic Stick!" she exclaims, brightly. "If I had it back, Monokuma would be toast!"

"Really?" Chiaki asks, tilting her head doubtfully. She skims over Monomi's code, the tendrils of Monokuma's virus already taking root. She could clean her in a few minutes, maybe, but it'd require Monomi to reboot, and she can't imagine Monomi being able to do it herself.

Monomi slumps, and says, "Well, I'd be able to destroy him eventually."

Hajime looks at Chiaki, who shrugs. "Do you know where Monokuma's keeping your stick?"

"Magic Stick!" Monomi corrects. "And... no. I don't know." She collapses further into a pile on the floor. "I'm sorry."

"If you could find out," Chiaki says, "we could get it back for you. Maybe."

She could try doing it herself, perhaps. But sifting out Monokuma will be difficult enough without looking for Monomi's own admin powers over the sim, already tainted. Monomi looks up at her and Hajime and sighs.

"I'll try my very best!" Monomi says. "Thank you!"

"How long do you think it'll take?" Hajime asks, after Monomi's popped away, and Chiaki stares into the air, processing thoughtfully.

"A day or two," she says, "I think. But -"

"We could let Byakuya know," Hajime suggests. "He might be able to help."

"At keeping everyone together, at least," Chiaki agrees. "And having a goal - it might help everyone. I think."

Hajime smiles at her, and Chiaki recognises the warmth in her chest now, something yearning and fond. She smiles back, remembering Hajime at the end: "I'll go back into the program," he'd said, "and this time, we'll all wake up."

"You know what'll happen," she'd said, or some version of her, rebuilt from stray code and memories. "Is it okay?"

"It will be," he'd said, resolved, and Chiaki couldn't convince him otherwise, even if she had wanted to.

Now, Hajime takes the broom from her hands when she yawns, feeling the weight of her new responsibilities like a physical load. "I can do it," she says, stubbornly, and he shakes his head.

"You can put the tablecloths on, if you like," he says. "I'll check the kitchen before Teruteru comes."

Chiaki all but collapses into a chair once the tablecloths are laid, bright ironed white against the dark carpet and floorboards. She pulls out her Game Girl Advance, just to look like she's doing something as she sinks into the code of the sim more fully, letting herself skim programs for Monokuma's intrusion. He's integrated himself into all sorts of things in a way that feels like a pattern Chiaki can't quite decipher, and she starts internally flagging everything for later deletion.

"Chiaki?"

She realises it late, and manages a yawn as she surfaces to the sim, Hajime's hand on her shoulder. "Hm?"

He shakes his head, looking amused. "Teruteru's started cooking, and I think we're done cleaning here." Chiaki looks around, at the cobwebs swept out from the corners and the dust-free floor, and thinks it feels almost familiar, like a memory she's lost. "I already told Byakuya. He wants us to meet him back at the restaurant."

Chiaki tilts her head at him, curious, and he shrugs. "Okay."

By the time they get there, it's practically full. Everyone is there except for Fuyuhiko, milling about uncertainly. "Why are we here?" Sonia's wondering out loud. "Isn't the party later tonight?"

Byakuya clears his throat, and everyone's gaze snaps to him. "I have been informed that there may be a way to remove Monokuma from this island," he starts, nodding at Hajime. "If we can find Monomi's Magic Stick, she's claimed she can remove him - and the killing game."

"Ain't Monomi part of the problem?" Akane asks, rubbing her ear. "She's in cahoots with Monokuma."

"She tried to stand up for us," Hajime interjects. "It wasn't bad, before Monokuma."

"B-but what about our memories?" Mikan asks. "Monokuma, um, said she was the one who - who took them."

"No," Peko says, "Byakuya's correct. If we remove Monokuma, Monomi would be easy to deal with - in one way or another."

"Monomi said we could leave once we gathered enough Hope Fragments," Chiaki reminds everyone. "If we work together, I'm sure we can find Monomi's Magic Stick, and then she can remove Monokuma, and the threat of death will be gone. I think."

Hajime sighs, and adds, "Maybe Monokuma wants to tell us things, but who knows if he's lying? He could be keeping as many things from us as Monomi."

"Where is that stupid bunny, anyway?" Hiyoko glances around, mouth twisted in a scowl.

Chiaki taps her finger against her lower lip, thoughtfully. "Um," she says, "I think I may have sent her to distract Monokuma. By accident."

"Well, that ties in well with our goals," Byakuya says. "Of course, you need not participate in the search - but the faster this is accomplished the faster we can return to what this island was like before - peace."

"Yeah!" Nekomaru shouts. "Let's go!"

There's purpose in the air, almost shining to Chiaki's senses, and she smiles up as Hajime pauses by her side. "Do you think this will work?" she asks, and he looks at the rest of the students, filing out.

"Do you?" he asks, and Chiaki tilts her head in a shrug.

"I don't know," she admits, "but the least we can do is help."

They scour the rest of the first island. The barn in the ranch is barely a structure in memory, though Hajime makes a strange face at the chicken-turned-cow, and the airport is even less. Kazuichi's stuck looking through parts that Chiaki thinks are barely representative of something real. The Rocketpunch Market is searched, Byuakuya and Ibuki rummaging through food and drink and everything they could ever need, and Mahiru informs them at the bridge that the hotel is entirely clear.

"We covered the old building, too," Chiaki tells her, and they move on.

It's Nagito who takes the fateful few steps close to the bomb at the centre of Jabberwock Park, his hand rising automatically as he stumbles. His foot slides in the grass and his hand lands on a piece of the statue that gives way, and the ground falls out beneath him, a hole leading to darkness. "Are you okay?" Chiaki asks, peering down, noticing a ladder, and Nagito laughs, echoing eerily up.

"I'm fine!" he says. "But everyone should see this."

Chiaki is the first, and as she descends hidden files reveal before her eyes, the source, the brain of Monokuma's AI. "Oh," she breathes out, looking around. He doesn't need monitors, speakers, any of the physical trappings of surveillance, but this is undoubtedly Monokuma's room - there are pictures, posters, extras sitting dormant. And, of course, Monomi's Magic Stick.

Chiaki is helped up by Hajime at the entrance. "All good?" he asks, and she nods, hefting the stick in her hands.

"But how do we get Monomi back to give it to her?" she wonders, and that's when Monomi pops up, in front of the half of the class not peering down into Monokuma's lair.

"Everyone!" Monomi exclaims. She collapses a little to her hands and knees, her expression worried. "Whatever you're doing, Monokuma's getting angry!"

"Give it to her," Byakuya commands, and Chiaki steps forward and places the Magic Stick in Monomi's hand.

From there, she yawns, closing her eyes as she reaches out on a lower level, Monomi's code littered with the virus. It's the work of seconds after Chiaki's flags, rooting out and destroying every instance of the virus in her, and she thinks Monomi must flicker in the sim as she reboots.

 _Chiaki?_ Monomi pings, and Chiaki sends it to her like a challenge, Monokuma's sprawling virus in a map expanding out from a nexus point. Monomi has enough access to follow her through the simulation's code, flagging for deletion and repairs, and Chiaki loses herself in following the fractal patterns of virus growth as her body is asleep outside.

She misses what happens there, almost in its entirety. She catches glimpses sometimes, removing Monokuma's fingerprints from cameras and microphones, from buildings and the sky. She hears Hajime's voice, once: " - won't let you," echoing in the space she leaves behind, and when everything is caught, she remembers him in a breath, remembers his determination, and musters up her own.

She sends _delete_ , and the world flashes out.

It's for just a moment. Chiaki comes back to her sim and yawns widely, feeling the need to recover like a weight on her eyelids, on her mind. She rubs her eyes, squinting into the light.

"Chiaki!" Hajime says, rushing to her side. "Are you okay?"

She looks around. The students are in a loose circle, fighters on the outside, and there’s a seemingly endless sprawl of broken and inanimate Monokumas stretching out across the park. Monomi's floating, a swirl of gold slowly dissipating from her body, and Chiaki looks at Hajime, his eyes glinting red. "Hm," she says, and smiles a bit. "Did I miss something?"

He huffs a laugh, and she watches the colour of his eyes fade back into brown. "You're always the same, Chiaki," he says, but he's smiling. "We did it."

Chiaki says, "You know, you're probably going to have to explain everything later," and Hajime makes a face.

"Yeah," he says, "but for now -"

Monomi rises to her feet. The sky is shining blue, and the oppressive atmosphere is gone. "Good job, everyone!" Monomi exclaims. "I've removed Monokuma's rules from the handbook already! So all you have to do is collect Hope Fragments and have fun!"

"Well, that's it," Chiaki says, and her head drops as she yawns, exhaustion taking hold. "Oh, wait."

Squinting into the sunlight, Akane whoops loudly, jumping into the air. "Party!"

"Did we just leave Teruteru in the kitchen?" Chiaki wonders, and Hajime hides his smile, looking away.

Byakuya pulls himself tall. "The party tonight should proceed as planned," he declares. "I expect to see you all there."

"All's well that ends well," Chiaki says. "I think."

"Hey," Hajime says, "thanks."

She looks at him, his hair messy in the sunlight. If she accessed the sim's memory, she's sure she would see him as himself, as Izuru, fighting the Monokumas with the determination she knows he has in spades. She thinks he'd be a few steps in front of her the whole time, just in case. "No," she says, quietly, "thank you." She yawns, again, her legs feeling weak as she struggles to regain control, and Hajime takes her arm and helps her toward the nearby bench. "I -"

"I only did what I had to," Hajime says, and Chiaki leans her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes.

"Exactly," she says, around a wide yawn, her mind already drifting to sleep. "So, thanks."

 

* * *

 

Three weeks later, she's playing Gala Omega against Hajime, both of them lying under an umbrella on the beach. Her head's in his lap, her Game Girl Advance held up to block out the sun. He's putting up more than a challenge, and she scowls up at her game system as their final co-op scores come up. "One more alien, again?" she says, and he laughs.

"I'm practicing my luck," he says, and she shakes her head, pouting.

"You're worse than Nagito." She starts a new game again, anyway. They've spent a few evenings holed up, first in Chiaki's cottage and then moving to the theatre, her game systems hooked up by Kazuichi to the screen projector, everyone with a controller Chiaki had discreetly edited in. They've played Mario Kart and party games, fighting and sims. Teruteru's made a picnic and it's been... fun. Chiaki's never had so many real people to talk to, never had so many friends. "You know," she starts, "everyone's nearly gotten all their Hope Fragments."

The beach is beautiful, and Chiaki's been editing it better. The sun streams down, seagulls caw as they wheel in the sky on the breeze, and she can hear the shrieks of joy, Gundam's booming laugh even from halfway up the golden sand. Chiaki's wearing a bathing suit under her uniform, and she thinks she might join them soon, while she still can. "I know," Hajime says. "We'll have to tell them."

Chiaki tils her head, thinking. "I don't think they'll believe it from Monomi."

"I suppose... I should. This was my idea, I guess." Hajime's smiling, a little wryly, when Chiaki glances up from her game. "You'll be able to let them keep both sets of memories, right?"

She nods. "I think so."

Hajime pauses, looking down at her. She can feel the moment he stops the game, and she sets hers down, too, rising to a sitting position and looking at him curiously. "We - we can get you out, too," he starts, haltingly. "Kazuichi's a mechanic, and I've been looking up things -"

"Hey," Chiaki says, leaning forward, "you all need to make your own hope, first." He looks at her, his expression solemn, and Chiaki offers him a small smile. "I'll still be here," she says, and his gaze drops as he shakes his head, smiling.

"I never told you," he says, quiet. He's close, Chiaki realises, close enough she could count his eyelashes, could lean forward, just a bit. "But in that last trial, when I was faced with Izuru - with myself - you were there. You told me -"

"What's important," Chiaki murmurs, half a forgotten memory away, "is that you believe in yourself."

Hajime smiles. "So believe in me, okay?"

She looks up, and he closes the distance between them. Her simulated heart is pounding a mile a minute when he kisses her, and she all but falls into it, his soft gentle mouth and too-human warmth. He wraps his arms around her, holding her tight, and Chiaki closes her eyes and for a brief moment, wishes they could stay like this forever.

There's a wolf-whistle in the distance, and Hajime pulls away, pink-cheeked. Chiaki feels flushed and warm, a delighted sort of giddy joy welling in her chest. "Hey, Hajime," she says, "I think they're challenging us."

"A game?" he says, and she rises to her feet, holding out a hand for him. Her cheeks hurt from smiling.

"Come on," she says. "One more day."

He takes her hand in his. He always will.


End file.
